Daisies
by ilovetvalot
Summary: Years had passed, but some loves were meant to be forever.
1. Chapter 1

_**Okay, first off, I never expected to write this story. Neither did my surprised co-author. But, because of three dear friends (Jekkah Fanfiction, SunnyinOregon, and Pandorabox82), here we are, writing an Alex Blake/Jason Gideon story. It's unusual. It's definitely a rare pairing. But, variety is the spice of life. And I've never tackled Alex before in fic. She's probably not going to be a carbon copy of what we see on the show. I hope I give her a little more depth. Hopefully, I'll be successful. It's gonna be a multi-chapter, so please be patient with me. **_

_**We also want to thank EVERYONE still loyally following our work. It's been tough; life is crazy for both partners in this wacky writing partnership. But, EVERY story is being worked on at the present time. And we're extremely thrilled to all our new and old readers alike that are still tuning in for story updates.**_

_**Also, we've created a new page on facebook called "The Book Nook". It's a place where you can go to recommend and see recommendations for books you are reading right now. We intend to do something very similar on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum soon.**_

_**Again, thanks for reading. Now, on with the writing….**_

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**Daisies**

**Chapter One**

Blinking against the bright lights suddenly blinding her vision as she slowly opened her eyes, Alex Blake assimilated several things almost instantly.

First, she was not installed in her own comfortable queen size bed in her own homey bedroom. Second, she was sore in places on her body that she hadn't known existed. And thirdly, but most importantly, she had certainly not invited the man currently sleeping in a chair by her bed, his head cocked at an awkward angle that was sure to leave him with a hellacious crick in his neck, to wherever it was that she currently resided.

And where the hell was she, anyway? Squinting as she looked around the room, she realized that she was in a hospital. She'd know those ugly green walls anywhere. The IV currently taped to her hand and the smell of antiseptic only served to verify that fact in her mind. Damn it, she _hated_ hospitals - almost as much as she despised the man sleeping beside her.

Slowly, she forced herself to remember her last conscious thoughts.

There had been an unsub. Of course, there was _always _an unsub in her life, she admitted silently to herself.

She and Reid had been assigned to breech the back of the house where the team suspected their foe was hiding. Morgan and JJ had been at the front, and Hotch and Rossi had been on their way from the rural police station they were using as a base of operations. She could remember entering the rickety back door of the ramshackle house with Reid moving carefully behind her. Both their weapons had been drawn and they'd been methodically searching each room for their killer.

She remembered both of them cautiously descending the uneven stair steps to the basement. After splitting up at the bottom of the stairs, she had been just about to call an "all clear" for her sector of the large room when their suspect had stepped from a shadowy corner of the room and lifted his own gun with shaking hands.

There had been no time to negotiate… not time for much of anything at all.

Her breath caught in her throat as she remembered the impact of his bullet hitting her body. She could recall taking a staggering step backward. He'd fired once, then again. She could still feel the burning pain of her flesh tearing and the acrid smell of the gunshots. Automatically looking down at her chest, she swallowed and wondered how bad things looked underneath her blue and white hospital gown that she wore.

Taking a deep breath, she forced her eyes back to the interloper beside the bed. Was that son of a bitch actually holding a bunch of daisies crushed in his hand?

That bastard!

What in the _hell_ was he doing here?

Briefly, she wondered if she had died and he was her own personal version of hell. His soft snores, however, assured her that this was all too real. Surely, the devil wouldn't snore. Offering him another sidelong glance, her eyes lingered on the flowers held in his grip.

Closing her eyes, she remembered the first time he'd offered her– if you could call it that - a bouquet of daisies.

It had been after the first official case that they'd worked together. She had been young… too young to know what she was really doing, she supposed. Fresh out of the Academy and anxious to prove herself, she'd worked hard on that case and to become invaluable to the Special Agent in Charge of the operation.

He'd worked hard to avoid seeing her as anything other than another agent he supervised. She worked equally hard at making him see her as a woman, and then had become as enthralled with him as she had the career she'd worked so hard to build. He'd fought her, but she'd been determined.

Nevertheless, after capturing the serial killer they'd tracked into the Smoky Mountains of Tennessee, they'd celebrated their victory and her fledgling love in the most elemental of ways.

It had been the height of stupidity - sleeping with a colleague - especially when that man had imbibed a bottle of wine. She'd known it then, but she hadn't let it stop her. No, the woman she'd been back then had dove headfirst into the affair, foolishly thinking that when all was said and done, he'd be as addicted to her as she was to him.

When she'd awakened the next morning, stars still shining in her young eyes, she'd reached for him and found his side of the bed empty and cool to the touch. She clearly remembered lifting her head from the bed and seeing the handpicked bunch of delicate daisies on his pillow with a handwritten note.

Even now, years later, she could recite that missive, written in his bold scrawl, verbatim.

_Thank you for a wonderful night, but this could never work between us, Alex. I know that you gifted me with a priceless gift last night, but I can't accept it. I'm not worthy of accepting it. I've taken the liberty of securing you a promotion to the Special Crimes division at the Bureau. You begin immediately. I hope you'll be happy there._

_G_

She'd stared at those white daisies on the pillow opposite her nose for over an hour. How ironic that he'd chosen to leave her a flower symbolizing purity and innocence when he'd taken hers in more than one way. She'd often wondered over the years if he'd realized his cruelty or if it had been unintentional.

Perhaps she owed him a debt of gratitude, she thought wryly. After all, if he'd imparted no other lesson, he had most assuredly taught her to be more circumspect with her heart. Never again had she ever allowed herself to give _everything_ she had to a man without reservation or a thought to the consequences.

He was an excellent teacher in more than one way.

She'd seen him sporadically over the years, sometimes at a lecture or a Bureau function, and they'd each mutually treated the other with a distant cool politeness, never saying more to each other than was absolutely required. On each occasion, she'd had to remind herself that while he was far from her friend, he wasn't her enemy either.

He was simply a mistake that the young and silly version of herself had made early in her career.

Period.

So, that left her with one burning question.

"What the hell are you doing here?" she whispered to the sleeping man.

Startled when he suddenly opened his soft brown eyes to sleepily stare at her, Alex could only gape.

"Hello, Alex. It's good to see you alive," Jason Gideon greeted her.


	2. Chapter 2

**Hello, friends! Just want to make a quick announcement that the May Challenge –"The Dearly Departed Death Fic Challenge" is available for sign-ups at the forum until April 30. We hope everybody will visit 'Chit Chat on Author's Corner' forum and give it a look. **

**Thanks for reading!**

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**Daisies**

**Chapter Two**

He knew she was awake before he ever opened his eyes. He heard the change in her breathing. From slow and steady to a near panicked gasp, the change in sound had instantly alerted him that she'd regained consciousness, but part of him wanted to give her the opportunity to come to grips with seeing him after two very long years. So, fighting every instinct he had, he remained motionless in his chair, eyes closed and gave her a chance to come to grip with his presence.

Of course, the other part of him was anxious to lean forward, grip her hand and beg her to forgive him for the stupidest decision he'd ever made in his life.

She'd never believe it, but walking away from Alex Blake almost twenty years ago still ranked numero uno on his hit list of all-time major fuckups.

Which was saying a lot since he'd made a proven pattern of screwing up anything good that came along in his life. He'd done it with his marriage … his job … hell, even his relationship with Spencer.

Except now, he was being given a second chance. If he could manage _not _to screw that up, too. And he was determined not to fuck up this time. He _couldn't_ fuck this chance up. It was very probably the last one he was going to receive.

Keeping his breathing slow and even, he could swear he could hear the gears in her mind shifting, clinking into place as she examined all the reasons he could possibly be sitting in front of her. And as intelligent as she was, he instinctively knew she'd never arrive at the right conclusion on her own. He'd given her no reason to think that he still felt anything for her beyond professional respect and admiration. He'd kept his own powerful feelings for her behind an impassive mask each time he'd seen her through the years.

Now, given a rare second chance, it was time to try things differently.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Hearing her huskily asked question, he knew she wasn't expecting an answer from him, but he couldn't hide behind his closed lids forever. It was definitely time - past time, really - to face her.

Slowly opening his eyes, he met her startled gaze. "Hello, Alex," he greeted her, straightening in his chair as he tightened his fingers around the flowers in his hand. "It's good to see you alive."

"Gideon," Alex managed to choke, silently cursing her uncooperative tongue. The last thing she wanted was to sound like a stuttering schoolgirl.

"Jason," he corrected automatically. Slowly releasing the daisies he held, he laid them gently on the bedside table before reaching for the yellow pitcher of water and pouring her a glass. Handing it over to her, he continued, "I think you and I are on a first name basis after all these years, don't you?"

Sipping the water so that she didn't have to reply just yet, she stalled for time.

Waiting until she lowered the cup, holding it tightly between both her hands, he spoke. "How are you feeling?" he asked, moving closer to rest his hands on the metal bedrail surrounding her.

"I feel like I got shot," Alex answered sarcastically. "Probably because I did. Answer the question, Gideon. Why are you here?" she repeated softly, keeping her voice carefully modulated. She kept her eyes focused on the cup while she waited for him to respond.

"You're injured," he said simply.

Perplexed and more than a little mystified, she lifted her eyes to stare at him in confusion, her dark eyebrows furrowed as she concentrated on reading his bland expression. He made the statement as though it were the most natural explanation in the world when in actuality, it did nothing to clarify anything for her. Maybe she needed to try this from another direction. "How did you even know that I was hurt?"

"Strauss called me," Jason informed her succinctly, offering her as little information as possible.

"Bitch," Alex muttered beneath her breath. She flushed as Gideon's low chuckle rolled around her and she realized she'd spoken aloud.

"Still haven't buried that particular hatchet, huh?" Jason laughed, watching as embarrassment flooded Alex's face.

Pressing her lips together, Alex's hands fidgeted with her cup. "Erin and I share a complicated history as I'm sure you are aware," she replied evenly. "I still don't understand why she'd call _you_, however. Where is the team?" she asked, peering out the open door to her room and into the hallway, her eyes searching for some member of the team.

"There was a break in the Replicator case while you were unconscious," he explained. "They wanted to stay, but…"

"Following any lead that we have on him is paramount," Alex interrupted, immediately understanding as she pushed the sheet off her and prepared to throw her legs over the bed.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?" Jason balked, snatching her arm and holding her still when she would have tried standing. "Do you wanna fall flat on your face? You just had surgery less than forty-eight hours ago to repair the damage a bullet did to your body. You just had a hole in your deflated lung stitched! You aren't going anywhere."

Glaring at the hand restraining her, Alex bit out, "I'm fine. I need to catch the first plane to… where are they?"

Snapping his mouth closed, Jason kept his hand exactly where it was. Did she realize how close she had come to meeting up with the Grim Reaper? Hell, he certainly was aware of it, and his stomach still clenched when he remembered those uncertain hours that he'd been forced to wait outside the OR while she'd been in surgery. He wasn't letting her out of his sight now. At least not until she was capable of kicking his ass out of her life. And she was a long way from being in that kind of shape now.

"Gideon?" Alex spat sharply.

"I'm not telling you a damn thing until you lie back down, Alex." Watching her eyes flash, he merely tightened his grip. "Yeah," he said with a nod, answering the question he knew she was thinking, "I'm _still_ a stubborn son of a bitch, Alex. I always get my way eventually. That hasn't changed. The easy way to handle this is that I suggest you lie back down and I'll answer some of your questions. The hard way is that I have the very nice nurses restrain you for your own safety. Which is it gonna be?"

Inhaling sharply, Alex lifted her chin. "Trust me, Gideon, if I'm restrained it won't be for my safety. It will be for yours."

Jason shrugged. "Either way, you'll be secure so it really doesn't matter a damn to me."

Sighing heavily, Alex leaned back against the pillows. "You say that like you almost give a damn," she muttered, painfully stretching her legs back out on the bed and reaching for the thin white sheet.

"Alex…"

"Save it, Jason," Alex mumbled, waving him off with one hand. "Just tell me where the hell I am right now and where my team is currently searching for the Replicator. Then, you can do us both a favor and pretend today didn't happen."


	3. Chapter 3

**Daisies**

**Chapter Three**

He couldn't have heard her right.

He was supposed to pretend today hadn't happened?

"Like hell," he rasped, his face clenching. Those hours of uncertainty and fear were still too fresh for him to pretend like she didn't matter to him. She did. She always had.

The words were out of his mouth before he could control his reaction. Feeling her startled gaze on him, he flushed and hastened to add, "You nearly died, Alex. I seriously doubt I forget that any time soon. Who the hell would?"

"You did a really good job at ignoring my existence for nearly two decades, Gideon. Just go back to doing that," Alex replied tightly, striving to adopt a dismissive air. She couldn't afford to allow him to see how his words affected her. She couldn't hand him that kind of ammunition.

"That went both ways, Alexandra," Gideon reminded her deeply, unwilling to bear all the blame for their muddy past. "Any time I came near you after our night together, you turned into an ice sculpture. You froze me out, damn it. You put on that cool, professional mask that you're wearing right now and stared right through me. Don't pretend that you ever tried to develop any kind of warm relationship with me. Don't try to convince me that you didn't do everything possible to avoid me over the years. In short, don't rewrite our history together. I was there, too, Alexandra."

Alex suppressed a shiver as he used her Christian name. In all her years at the Bureau, he was the only person that had ever done that. "You were," she agreed, keeping her voice emotionless. "Right up until you ran away. Of course, from what I've heard, you got _really_ good at running when things got hard," she added with a bitter smile, knowing she'd hit a sore spot with that remark.

There, she thought, watching him flinch at her words. She'd tried to hurt him and she'd succeeded. Good! He deserved a small comeuppance after all these years.

"Careful, sweetheart," Gideon said quietly, "Your claws are showing. Do us both a favor and sheathe them before one of us gets hurt."

Alex's shoulders stiffened. "Before one of us gets hurt," she echoed, releasing a humorless chuckle. "One of us already _got _hurt. Several years ago. It's water under the bridge now, and the good news is that you don't have that kind of power over me anymore, Gideon. Either tell me the answers to my questions or leave. It's your choice, but I'm rapidly running out of patience with your line of bullshit."

"I'm not trying to bullshit you, Alex," Gideon growled, his knuckles turning white as he gripped the metal bars of her bed rails. He couldn't let her make him angry. Damn it, he wanted another chance with her.

"No. You're trying to guide me on a walk down Memory Lane that I'm not interested in taking," she retorted, her eyes darkening as she glared at him.

"God_damn_ it, Alexandra," Gideon cursed violently, unsure which of them he was angriest at. Himself or her? It was a close fucking race. "If you'd just give me a chance to explain, then maybe we could finally unload some of this baggage we've been carrying around with us for far too long."

Merely arching one eyebrow, Alex stared at him, steadfastly refusing to have the conversation that he wanted. Instead, she asked sharply, "Do I need to call a nurse and have you removed or are you going to tell me where my team has gone?"

"Your team has gone to Texas. Evidently, they're finding severed heads all over the place down there. They stayed long enough to ensure that you were out of the woods and then Strauss put 'em back on the jet. For now, you're still in an area hospital outside of Chicago. When Strauss learned that the Replicator had struck again, she called me. I lived the closest."

"That's Erin. Always thinking of others," Alex mumbled sarcastically.

"Stop spinning conspiracy theories, Alex," Jason returned with a sigh. "She's been worried about you, too."

"They aren't theories if they've already been proven. Strauss will never miss an opportunity to plant a knife in my back if she can get away with it. Today, you just got to be her knife. And if Erin is worried, it's only because she's concerned how having one of her agents shot on her watch will affect her career trajectory."

"I'm not going to argue with you about it, but, in this instance, you're wrong. I'm here because Erin didn't want to leave one of her best profilers unprotected and undefended. From what little information I've garnered from her, evidently this unsub has a penchant for being able to be in two places at once. If the team was chasing a ghost in Texas, then there was a possibility the unsub could double back here and make a play for you while you were in a weakened condition. She wasn't willing to take that risk with your life."

"She could have left one of the others behind with me. She didn't have to call _you._"

"Would you think about it, Alex?" Jason asked irritably. "If the Replicator is waiting in Texas, he's watching the team. One of you absent can be chalked up to an anomaly. It could be rationalized by him. Two of you? Two of you gone would trigger his suspicion and you know it."

He had a point, she admitted silently. Giving the Replicator any more knowledge about any of them could be tantamount to suicide. And after everything, she wasn't eager to die.

"I see that you're getting it now," he murmured when Alex still hadn't spoken a full minute later. "Erin is trying to protect you in the only way she knows how."

Suddenly tired, Alex leaned her head back against her pillow and closed her eyes. "You're still friends with her, I take it."

"Yeah," Jason confirmed. He'd been pissed with Erin for a long time after she'd betrayed Alex during the Unabomber case. He had purposefully not been a part of it, but he'd remained plugged into all the details surrounding the investigation. Strauss, however, had been genuinely sorry for her part in derailing Alex Blake's career. She had tried to make amends many times over the years, but Alex had been unmoved. He knew that the woman in the bed would never easily forgive what had happened.

Not with Erin.

And certainly not with him.

He had to try, though. The remorse was eating him alive. "She's sorry for what happened, Alex," he said softly, watching her pale features for any sign that she was listening to him. "Probably not as sorry as I am, but still…she's sorry. _I'm_ sorry."

Opening her eyes, Alex stared at him for a moment before smiling a smile that never touched her eyes. "I'll tell you the same thing I told her then, Jason, when she showed up in my face asking for my forgiveness."

His stomach sank. "What was that, Alexandra?"

"Get fucked and get out."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Note: Don't forget you still have a day or so left to sign up for the Wedding Bells Challenge over on Chit Chat on Author's Corner forum. As always, thank you to everyone that continues to follow our stories. Each review and private message mean a lot to us. **_

**Daisies**

**Chapter Four**

"Well, I'm glad to see that your disposition remains completely unchanged," a cultured voice remarked from the doorway.

"And my day has taken a turn from bad to _worse_," Alex said through clench teeth, shifting her gaze from Jason to a newly arrived Erin Strauss. "What the hell are _you_ doing here? Did you come to gloat? Maybe stick the knife in my back a little deeper?" she asked bitterly.

"Don't worry," Erin replied blandly. "I don't intend to stay long." Directing her impassive gaze toward her former field agent, she asked, "Jason, could you please give myself and Agent Blake a moment of privacy? We have a few matters to discuss."

"I don't think that's a good idea, Strauss," Jason denied, shaking his head.

"This may come as a surprise to you," Erin returned, hardening her voice with a tone that few ignored, "but I don't care. Leave."

His jaw clenched as he met Erin's eyes. The old bitch wasn't going to relent. "Fine," he muttered, straightening. "But no matter what she says to you, I'm your shadow for a minimum of fourteen days," he imparted to Alex before striding past Strauss into the hallway.

Watching as the other woman closed the door, Alex bit the inside of her cheek and silently fumed. Of all the low blows that Erin could have leveled her with, this had to be the lowest and cruelest. "Do you ever get bored with torturing me, Erin?"

"I knew that's what you'd think," Erin commented regretfully. "Believe it or not, I had nothing to do with the decision to pull Jason Gideon back into the Bureau."

"And, you're already lying," Alex declared with a hollow laugh. "Why am I not surprised?" she muttered, lifting her eyes toward the ceiling and shaking her head. "You lied ten years ago when you derailed my career and you're still lying now. Luckily, I know enough to not believe a word that comes out of your mouth this time."

Lifting her chin, Erin squared her shoulders. She was well aware that this wouldn't be an easy conversation to have. Alex had good reason to mistrust her, but this time, she was telling the truth. _None_ of this had been her idea. Jason Gideon would never have been her solution to any problem, but that decision had been taken out of her hands. "I've already apologized for our past, Agent Blake," Erin responded with as much dignity as she could muster. "My role in your demotion was unforgivable, and I understand your hesitation to believe me now, but what I'm saying is the truth."

"Erin," Alex snapped as she laughed sharply, her eyes narrowing, "Gideon just told me, not five minutes ago, that it was _you_ that called him in here. Would you please sing another tune?"

"That is true," Erin agreed with a short nod as she settled into the chair beside the bed "I did call Gideon. Because I was given a direct order from _my _superior to call him. The final decision on that was made above my pay grade." Momentarily uncertain, she bit her lip before adding, softly, "I wouldn't have done that to you, Alex. I would not have inflicted Jason on you had the Director not insisted. It was _his_ idea. You know that he, Jason, and Rossi all go way back. They were thick as thieves when we were starting out," she pointed out with an arched brow. "And since I've been released from rehab, our esteemed boss doesn't quite trust my judgment as he once did. I apologize. I argued on your behalf. I offered Agent Anderson as a substitute for Gideon….he wouldn't go for it. He wanted a tested and proven field agent. Ask Gideon if you believe me, Alex. He'll inform you that his reception from me was less that warm. I haven't forgotten what he did to you either," she acknowledged gently.

Swallowing hard, Alex wished for a moment that she and Erin were still friends. She needed someone she could confide her secrets and fears without worrying how it would be used against her. Unfortunately, too much water had passed underneath that bridge. She couldn't risk a second betrayal by the Section Chief – not when the first had done so much damage. Her gut said that she had nothing to fear where Erin was concerned, but she'd misjudged those closest to her too many times in the past.

"I know he's the last person, aside from me, that you would want to deal with while you're recovering."

"You'd be better than him," Alex admitted grudgingly. "At least when I tell _you_ to back the hell off, you generally have the common sense to do it."

"High praise, indeed," Erin commented with a faint smile.

"Why, Erin?" Alex finally asked. "Putting my personal feelings about the man aside, what exactly does he bring to the table here? The FBI Director wouldn't have brought in what I assume would be catalogued as a costly consultant without a good reason. If those at the Bureau truly believe I'm in danger and all the duty he has is to assume a protective detail, then any agent would have sufficed. Gideon brings a special skill set to the table, and you know it. So, what's the angle here?"

Nodding, Erin extracted a manila file from her shoulder bag. "You're partially right. Protective detail isn't the only obligation he's undertaken." Handing over the file, she continued, "We received the contents in that file this morning. The photographs were faxed to me here."

Flipping it open, Alex gazed down at what she held. Holding the glossy photographs of her, hooked to a respirator with shaking fingers, she inhaled sharply. "When were these taken?"

"We assume yesterday," Erin replied softly. "My assistant found them on my desk this morning. There is a photocopy of the handwritten note that came with the pictures."

Turning to the page Erin mentioned, Alex read aloud. "I see you." Looking at the other woman, Alex whispered, "The Replicator is goading us."

"That's our assumption as well," Erin agreed with a short nod. "He's also extremely talented since we assumed he was in Texas at the time those pictures would have been taken. He can't possibly be two places at once, but neither the team, nor I, can guarantee which location he's currently haunting. Enter the reason for Gideon. The team is profiling from Texas. You and he are profiling from here. Plus, if the Replicator has chosen to target you, you will have some much needed backup in the form of a very pissed off former lover."

"You think he's trying to isolate one of the pack to wreak havoc," Alex surmised grimly.

"I think it is possible." Erin nodded. "And in your current condition – which this maniac knows about," she said with a gesture toward the photographs. "You wouldn't exactly be at your fighting best."

Sighing heavily, Alex slowly closed the file before looking up at her technical superior. "Have I mentioned how very much I abhor when you're right about anything, Erin?"

"I hate to disappoint you, Alex, but you're only the latest in a rapidly lengthening line to say so," Erin replied evenly. "But don't let that stop you; no one else does."


	5. Chapter 5

**So, we just wanted to give our readers a little information about what we've been doing the last couple of months and why updates have slowed to a trickle. We've been working on an original piece to be published under our professional pen name, Sarah O'Rourke. Our new book, "Disturbed, Dazed and Delighted" will be available soon on . Until then, please check our Sarah O'Rourke's published books all available for Download on . We hope you enjoy them!**

**Now, on with the show…**

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**Daisies**

**Chapter Five**

Pacing the length of the waiting room for the fourth time, Jason Gideon glared at the drab olive green walls. He'd spent way too much time in this room already. He knew it was exactly forty-three steps from wall to wall. He knew that the second vending machine on the left didn't make accurate change. He knew that the so-called coffee maker in the corner actually produced something that too closely resembled tar and rust.

But the most important thing he knew was that if he had to wait one more minute to get back into Alex's hospital room, he was going to lose his freaking mind.

"Jason?" Erin Strauss said from the doorway.

Turning on his heel at the sound of his name, Gideon frowned. "What's the deal with banning me from the room, Strauss?" he questioned roughly. "You _are _aware that I'm doing you a favor here, aren't you? Throwing me out of the protectee's sight isn't really conducive to keeping her safe."

Arching one blonde eyebrow, Erin narrowed her eyes at the man in front of her. Gideon was arrogant on the best of days, but he could be a downright prick on his worst. She judged that they were midway between the two points. Unfortunately for him, her patience was waning. She was in no mood for his special brand of crap. She had Rossi to spoon feed her that on a daily basis. "First, you aren't doing_ me_ a favor at all. I didn't want you here, remember? _My_ boss wants you here. Second, since I'm still a perfectly genuine agent with the agency that you resigned from, I think Agent Blake was safe enough, don't you? Or would you like me to remind you of how fine a shot I am?"

"Damn it, Erin," Jason growled, ignoring the logic that was evident in the final statement and leveling the woman with yet another glare.

"Look, Alex is less than thrilled that you're the guy that's been tasked to watch over her for the next few days. I happen to agree with her, but you already know that. I suggest you try to be as unobtrusive as possible. I'd also pray that nobody gives her back her service weapon any time soon. She'd sooner shoot you than look at you."

"So she's pissed. It's not a big shock. We knew she'd be angry. The important thing is her safety and recovery right now," Jason stated dismissively. "As for remaining unobtrusive, I wouldn't count on it. You wanted us to work on creating a profiler for the Replicator. That's going to require a certain amount of communication, Strauss."

"I'm aware of that. But, you might want to consider keeping things on a strictly professional level, Jason. Otherwise, you two will end up with his and hers bullet holes. She doesn't want to walk down memory lane with you," Erin informed him softly.

Staring at the woman for a moment, Gideon finally dropped his gaze to the scuffed linoleum floor. "How much do you know?" he asked quietly.

"You know that, once upon a time, Alex and I were friends," Erin stated.

"You were _best _friends," Jason corrected her sharply, arching one brow.

"Yes. Ones that shared everything with each other."

"Damn." Jason winced, easily adding what had not yet been spoken aloud. "So you know it all," he surmised. "No wonder you never much liked me."

"I didn't like you back then because, more often than not, you're a selfish and egotistical ass. Oh, you're really good at the profiling, but your people skills are non-existent. That's still true, I think. Your actions with Alex all those years ago merely cemented those facts for me." Erin shrugged. "Times, however, _have_ changed. For all of us. Alex isn't my best friend anymore. She barely tolerates my presence and rightfully so. So, maybe, you and I have more in common that I first assumed."

"I assume that means that you're still persona non grata with our mutual friend, huh?" Jason grunted, feeling a mild kinship with the woman Alex seemed to hate.

"Oh, very much so. A near death experience hasn't changed her feelings for either me _or_ you. If anything, she's even more bitter than she was before she was shot. She feels like I'm doing nothing to help keep her from your nefarious clutches. She resents the hell out of you for all the obvious reasons."

"Then I guess I'll just have to earn her forgiveness," Gideon said more to himself than Strauss.

Erin was unable to stop the laughter that bubbled from her lips. "Good luck with that, Jason," she chuckled. "Today is just a day of firsts."

"What do you mean by that?"

"Well, I never thought that I'd live long enough to see you willing to humble yourself and earn anyone's forgiveness. And I _know_ I never thought I'd be capable of actually pitying you, but I do. I really do. At any rate, these are the keys to the safe house where you'll be staying," she said, passing him a set of keys. "The address is in the file I left with Alex."

"Wait," Gideon countered with a shake of his head as he tried to hand the keys back to her. "We don't need a safe house. I live in the area, Erin. It would be simpler to stay there."

Shaking her own head in denial, Erin smiled sympathetically. "Afraid not, Jason. Alex has steadfastly refused to stay within your personal residence. I knew she would. That's why I took the liberty of arranging the safe house, and if I were you, I wouldn't rock the boat. She's agreed to your protective detail provided some of _her_ demands are met. _This,_" she explained with a nod to the keys, "is one of her conditions."

"_This_ is stupid," Gideon growled.

"It's a small concession if it means keeping her alive and willing to be watched by you, isn't it?"

"I hate it when you're right about anything, Strauss," Gideon complained, the muscle in his jaw tightening ominously.

Sighing heavily, Erin hitched the leather strap of her bag up her shoulder. "Yes, I appear to be getting that a great deal lately, but one can't help it when they're correct. Pushing Agent Blake now would not do either of us any favors. We should concede in the areas that we can. That means that you and she _will_ be staying in a safe house on the outskirts of the city for the foreseeable future. I'll have one of the field agents from the Chicago office meet with you this afternoon and you can provide him a list of the essentials you'll need from your house. Understood?"

"Fine," Gideon snapped.

"Wonderful." Glancing at her watch, Erin nodded. "I have a plane to catch in an hour. I'll be joining the remainder of the team in Dallas, but I expect you to keep me updated on an hourly basis until Alex is installed within the house."

"Alright," he returned. "Are we done here?" he asked impatiently, anxious to return to Alex's room.

"I suppose we are," Erin replied to a man that was already halfway to the door. "Good luck, Jason," she called out as he rounded the corner. "God be with you," she murmured as she wondered if either he or Alex would come through this intact.


	6. Chapter 6

**Daisies**

**Chapter Six**

Forty-eight hours later, Jason Gideon wondered how in the hell he'd ever thought coming back into the Bureau was a sound move.

His motives hadn't been completely selfish. While he had wanted to reconnect with a woman he could have easily fallen in love with years ago, he'd also needed to find a way assist the team he'd helped build. After the way he'd left them all, it was the _least_ he could. They were each in danger. Every goddamn one of his friends was being targeted by a madman intent on inflicting as much pain as possible. He had to do _something. _So far, however, the only thing he'd managed to accomplish was amping up the resentment that Alexandra Blake felt for him.

And damn, but that woman could hold a grudge.

From the second he'd escorted her into the relatively nice safe house this morning, she'd retreated behind an icy reserve that he'd yet to penetrate. It seemed that no matter how hard he hammered away at those walls of hers, they only got thicker. He'd forgotten how determined Alex could be when she made a choice to be obstinate. She'd been reserved even back when they'd first worked together, but he'd never seen her as remote and untouchable as she was now. Glancing at her through the doorway of the kitchen, he silently admitted that she was one cool ticket.

There was really only one choice for him.

He had to find a way to heat her up and thaw that hardened heart of hers.

Shit, it was times like these that he wished he'd paid more attention and watched David Rossi work his magic. That was a guy that had never met a pair of panties he couldn't peel off. Not that he wanted to strip Alexandra bare…well, not yet, anyway, he thought with a lingering look at the woman currently turning his well-ordered world upside down.

What was it about her that drew him like a moth to a flame? Christ, he was smart enough to realize that ninety percent of the time, the damn insect burned alive, but it didn't seem to matter. He _still_ wanted her.

"Stop staring at me, Gideon," Alex commanded him from the other room without looking up from the book she held in her hands.

"Stop staring at me, Gideon," he mocked under his breath as he slid the sandwiches he'd prepared onto plates. Great, he thought….now he'd stooped to juvenile aping tactics. She'd _really _appreciate that kind of maturity. Taking a deep breath as he waited for her to snipe at him, he suddenly realized that she was just going to ignore him.

That was even worse.

Picking up the lunch he'd prepared for Alex, he moved back into the living room. "The doctor said you needed to eat something substantial before you take any pain medication so I hope you like turkey on wheat," he said, sliding the plate on the coffee table nearest her recliner.

"I'm not hungry," Alex replied, turning the page of her book.

"Alex, it's almost time for your next dose," Jason commented with a sigh.

"I don't need it," she returned absently.

Damn, she was going to be stubborn. Did he want to waste his breath arguing with her or simply prove his point?

Shrugging, he bent and poked her in the side a couple of inches above her incision site.

"Ouch!" Alex gasped, automatically reaching down to press a hand over her wound. "Son of a bitch!" she hissed on a grimace. Lifting accusing eyes to Jason, she shook her head. "What in the hell was that for? Are you some kind of closet sadist?"

"Nope, I'm not into pain. Well, not of the physical variety, at any rate," he corrected under his breath. "That was an object lesson, sweetheart. I knew it would get your attention where nothing I said to you could."

"An ob…" Alex began to repeat, lifting her head up to look at him incredulously. Suddenly overcome by the hilarity of the situation, she giggled. After all, how many women could claim that in less than a week they'd been stalked by a lunatic unsub, shot by a _different _psychotic unsub, and reunited with an old lover that had put her through enough emotional hell to _be_ qualified as unsub of the century? She was lucky that she hadn't found herself relaxing in the nearest mental institution. Shaking her head as she pressed her hand to her side and tried to regain her senses, she finally held out a hand and ordered, "Give me my damn pills, Jason."

Reaching for her plate, he shoved it under her nose. "Eat your damn sandwich first, Alex." His tone matched hers.

Staring from the sandwich to him and back again, Alex finally sighed. Thanks to Jason's little lesson, her side throbbed painfully. It wasn't so much the poke that got her as the jerking she did when his touch had startled her. Oh, if she could only find where he'd stashed her Glock, she thought morosely.

"I can do this all day, Alexandra," Jason warned ominously, bouncing the plate under her nose as he noted the pale, pinched set of her face. "Are you gonna eat or are we going to continue our bad comedy routine?"

Glaring at the turkey sandwich, she imagined telling him to shove it up his ass. Unfortunately, she also knew that no matter what insulting thing she said, in the end, she was going to be forced to eat it in order to get that tiny white capsule he was holding hostage. Snatching her lunch off the plate before she could talk herself out of it, she took a vicious bite out of the sandwich and chewed furiously.

"I'm glad you see things my way," Jason told her, barely suppressing an arrogant grin.

"Don't get used to it," Alex grumbled between bites. "I just happen to want that pill more than I want to spar with you at the moment. I won't be in pain indefinitely, but you'll always be an ass. I have no doubt that I'll have another opportunity to tell you what I really think of you."

"I have no doubt," Jason replied quietly as the doorbell pealed.

Lifting an eyebrow when Jason automatically reached for the gun strapped to his side, Alex's lips twitched. "Unless he was Miss Manners protogee, I seriously doubt that the Replicator would ring the doorbell, Jason," she observed dryly.

"You know one thing I didn't miss about you over the years, Alexandra," Jason retorted.

"Do tell."

"The freaking sarcasm," he muttered, turning on his heel and stalking toward the front door.

* * *

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	7. Chapter 7

**Friends, we are thrilled to announce the release of our alter ego's latest novella! Please check out "Slave to Passion" by Sarah O'Rourke, which is the second book in The Estate Series. This decadent erotica is mixed with a steamy, romantic plot that will keep you spell-bound for all 39,000+ words! It is available on Amazon. com for only $2.99!**

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* * *

**Daisies**

**Chapter Seven**

Taking a deep breath as he tried to tell himself that gagging Alex until she was willing to be reasonable was actually a _bad _idea, Jason gently moved the curtain covering the window beside the door slightly aside to peek at the elderly couple waiting on the front steps.

Great. Just wonderful.

They had company. And from the eager, determined look on what he assumed was the wife's face, they weren't going anywhere any time soon. At least not until he opened the door and met them.

"Erma, maybe they aren't home," Jason heard a gruff male voice complain. Obviously the old man had been dragged across the street under duress.

"The car is in the driveway, Edgar. They're home."

Sighing as the lady squared her petite shoulders and hefted what appeared to be a pie in one thin arm and lifted her other hand to knock again, Jason realized that there was absolutely no avoiding the approaching confrontation. Despite Edgar's growl of irritation and his own reservations about letting the strangers into the safe house, Erma was not going to be dissuaded.

Fucking perfect.

Plastering what he hoped was a benign smile on his face, Jason opened the door. "Hello," he greeted the interlopers.

"Well, hello to you," the woman, Erma, greeted Jason with a friendly smile. "We just wanted to pop by and welcome you to the neighborhood. I'm Erma Goodson and this is my husband, Edgar."

The old man grunted when Erma's sharp pointy elbow met his sternum, a clear indicator for him to speak.

"Pleased to meet ya," Edgar muttered with a brief nod in Jason's general direction. He was a little busy glaring at his wife as he rubbed his injured chest. "Can I go now, Erma? The Price is Right is on in ten minutes."

"No, you can not!" Erma huffed, turning her eyes toward her husband. "Edgar, where are your manners? We haven't even gotten this young man's name yet," she chided, pursing her wrinkled lips as she looked Edgar.

Rolling his eyes heavenward, Edgar sighed the sigh of a man consigned to marital hell. "What's your name, kid?" he growled.

"Jason. Jason Waverly," Gideon lied smoothly. Hell, talk about manufacturing a cover identity on the fly.

"Jason Waverly," Edgar repeated. "Proud to know ya," he added dismissively before turning back to his wife. "His name is Jason Waverly, Mother. Can I go _now_?" he asked impatiently, glancing at the heavy watch around his wrist.

Erma merely narrowed her ominous gaze on the man she'd married – the one that warned him of the dire repercussions to come as soon as they crossed the threshold back into their own household.

Well versed in the look of painful payback his wife was shooting him with dagger-like intensity, Edgar flinched. "Oh, hell. Fine," Edgar grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest when he realized that his wife wasn't going to release him as her hostage. He turned his attention back to Jason. "She's not going anywhere, sonny, so, unfortunately, neither am I. You might as well invite us in, eat a slab of pie and prepare to make nice for the next half hour. She's got that damn look in her eye," he informed the younger man, jerking his head toward Erma.

Under different circumstances, Jason could truly see himself enjoying this elderly man's company. He was obviously a straight shooter that didn't believe in wasting energy on pesky things like tact. He liked him immediately.

"What Edgar means to say," Erma said sweetly, "is that we'd love to visit with you and your lovely wife?" she asked pointedly. "I noticed you helping her inside when I was doing the breakfast dishes this morning," she explained quickly. "Is the poor dear ill? She looked a little pale when you were helping her out of the car."

Shaking his head, Edgar rolled his eyes again. "Woman's got eyes like an eagle and ears like a bat, Waverly. You won't be able to get many secrets past the nosy old goat."

"Edgar," Erma bit out through clenched teeth. "If you don't behave yourself, I'm going to rip your dentures out so that you can't abuse the rest of us with your obnoxious opinions."

"They aren't opinions if the facts are proven by the test of time," Edgar sniped.

"Edgar Goodson!" Erma hissed, her faded blue eyes flashing dangerously.

Intervening quickly before the old woman could drop kick her husband off the front stoop, Jason invited loudly, "Won't you both come in?"

"Don't mind if we do," Erma replied with a kindly smile at Jason before she snatched Edgar's wrist and dragged him into the house.

"May I take that for you?" Jason asked, gesturing at the plate in Erma's hands as he closed the door. His mother had actually taught him manners, though he rarely used them anymore. But, he had a cover to maintain right now and being seen as the polite, non-threatening next door neighbor seemed like the easiest lie he could spin. Refusing to eat an old woman's pie wouldn't win him any points of favor.

"Oh, yes," Erma agreed with a smile. "It's a double chocolate pie with a crushed Oreo crust."

"It's a diabetic coma waiting to happen," Edgar clarified, exchanging a look with Jason before gazing longingly at the pie in question.

"He's just angry that I wouldn't let him have a slice of the one I made for our grandchildren," Erma excused her husband. "He's a bit put out that I'm watching his sugar intake, and he gets so cranky when he can't feed his sweet tooth."

"Watching my food intake?" Edgar echoed. "That's how you're passing off the torture going on in our house? Erma, you've morphed into a bona fide food Nazi." Looking at Jason, he added with a grim nod, "It's true. Hitler could have used her in his Third Reich."

Jason choked on his laughter, covering it with a cough. "Well, I'll just put this in the kitchen and we'll go visit with my…" This time he did choke on the word he needed to sputter.

"Wife?" Erma interjected helpfully.

Clapping his hand on Jason's back, Edgar offered him a genuine smile. "I can see you're as edified to be embroiled in so-called matrimonial bliss as I am, son."


End file.
